


Of Stowaways and Flying Cars

by celtic7irish



Series: An Assembly of Avengers [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's team aren't the only people on the Bus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Phil stared down at the missive in front of him, frowning faintly.  It wasn’t anything that he hadn’t been expecting, but that wouldn’t make it any easier.  For a man who was supposed to be dead, Nick Fury had an awful lot of demands.  Most of the time, Phil just accepted that Fury was who he was, and he took care of whatever problem came up.  But he had to admit to being at a bit of a loss with this particular request.  Though, really, it was more like an order.  Except that it couldn’t be, because Fury had handed the reigns over to Coulson in regards to SHIELD, and he couldn’t possibly be everything at once. 

 

He supposed he’d have to sort through his personnel files and see if he could find someone he felt he could trust, and that the Avengers might be willing to accept.  Just thinking about the ruckus Stark would cause if their new handler wasn’t up to specs was causing him a headache.  And with the Winter Soldier now thrown into the mix, even the Captain was likely to be suspicious of anybody Coulson might send in.  Especially since it was the Captain who had brought down SHIELD in the first place.

 

A knock on his office door brought him out of his contemplation.  “Come in,” he said, his face automatically smoothing back into neutrality.  He allowed his lips to curl up slightly when Skye poked her head in.  “Hey, boss!” she greeted cheerfully.

 

Phil just raised an eyebrow at her.  “Skye,” he acknowledged, pleased to see her.  He glanced at the clock sitting on the corner of his desk and frowned.  “Is it that late already?” he wondered out loud.

 

Skye grinned smugly.  “I told them,” she crowed.  Upon seeing the agent’s look, she gave an awkward cough, shuffling further into the office. “Ah, they were wondering where you were, and I told them you’d probably just lost track of time, so I offered to come check up on you,” she explained.

 

Phil looked down at the missive again before tucking it into his briefcase with a silent sigh.  He’d deal with it later.  For now, he had other obligations.  “What’s on for tonight?” he asked.  Under his feet, the Bus rumbled soothingly.

 

Skye grinned.  “Umm…Independence Day, I think,” she admitted, her lips twitching, threatening to break out into laughter.  Phil just sighed.  Now that they knew that there actually was intelligent life on other worlds out there, and that at least some of them had already targeted Earth, he’d be just as happy to never watch another alien invasion movie again. And so, of course, that’s exactly what his team had picked.  Movies so far had ranged from Star Wars to E.T. to Aliens and Men in Black.  He wondered idly which of his teammates had chosen tonight’s movie, though his bet would be on Melinda, or possibly Triplett.  Fitz and Simmons had picked E.T., and Skye had chosen Men in Black – all three of them – for her night to pick.

 

Deciding that when his turn came up, he was going to choose something incredibly annoying – Lilo & Stitch, maybe, just to keep the theme going – Phil left his office, locking the door behind him before following Skye down the hallway.

 

He stopped when he reached the sitting area, observing the others while Skye claimed her own seat next to Fitz and Simmons, leaving an empty chair for Phil.  Agents May and Triplett had claimed the other two individual chairs.

 

He noted that the video display, currently in stasis and hovering above the central table, had been upgraded.  Again.  Courtesy of Stark, no doubt.  How that man managed to sneak past him to tinker with their plane, even with JARVIS’s help, he had no idea.  The real surprise had come on the day when Lola had reappeared in the cargo bay during a quick stop in Newark, as beautiful and pristine as she’d ever been, despite her less-than-stellar landing when Phil and Skye had been running for their lives.

 

Phil loosened his tie and undid the top button of his collar in deference to the more casual nature of movie night, then settled himself in his chair, his feet stretched out in front of him as he allowed himself to relax.  They weren’t currently in the middle of a mission, and the Bus had ample warning systems to alert them if an unfriendly approached.  “So…Independence Day?” he asked wryly, the irony of the title not lost on him.  He wondered vaguely if the Captain was celebrating his birthday today.  Skye smiled brightly over at him, silently offering him the bowl of popcorn as Fitz got the movie started.  Phil accepted a handful, careful not to drop any on the furniture or his suit, glad to find that it was unbuttered.

 

Will Smith was dragging an alien carcass through the desert while Skye and Triplett argued over whether or not Area 51 really existed – Phil was very carefully not answering their questions either way – the video paused and the lights dimmed.  Where the movie had been a moment before, there was now a set of coordinates.  Phil rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, glancing over at Skye, who was already researching the coordinates.  A moment later, she grinned.  “Stuttgart, Germany,” she said triumphantly.  Then she frowned.  “But what’s so important in Stuttgart?” she wondered.

 

Phil shook his head.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “The last time Stuttgart showed up on SHIELD’s radar was when Loki appeared there, seeking subservience and capture.  And an eyeball,” he added as an afterthought, watching in vague amusement as the younger members of the team shuddered in revulsion.

 

Skye was nodding, though.  “Yeah, Rising Tide did some work with the incident in Germany,” she agreed slowly.  “They were trying to figure out if there was a reason that Loki chose that particular country for his attack.”  It didn’t go unnoticed by any of them that Skye now considered herself separate from Rising Tide, even though she had once been counted among their members.

 

That was something that Phil could answer, though.  “There is always a reason behind everything Loki does, even if we can’t see it.  In that particular instance, though, he was after a curator’s visual imprint which was necessary to secure iridium for a stable portal.  The man just happened to be in Stuttgart at the time, though I’m sure the irony of it would have amused him, had he cared enough about Earth to learn its history.”

 

Triplett spoke up next.  “So…do we follow it?  It could be a trap,” he pointed out.  The other five crew members looked at him, and he blinked, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “Or not.”

 

Phil had his suspicions about where the coordinates had come from, and he didn’t believe that following them would lead them into any danger.  Besides, it wasn’t like they were on a mission at the time.  “Agent May,” he said after a moment of contemplation, “please readjust our route.  Do we have enough fuel to get us there without stopping?”

 

The Calvary nodded.  “Yes, sir,” she said, and left the room.  Phil settled back in his chair, watching as the others followed his lead and relaxed as well.  Moments later, the plane swung in a slow, wide arc, changing its trajectory and heading overseas.  It would be several hours before they arrived, leaving them with plenty of time to get some rest and for Phil to see if he couldn’t figure out what, exactly, Tony Stark was up to. 

 

Ever since Stark had opted to bankroll the Avengers, with Steve leading the team, they had become something of an unknown.  That wasn’t to say that they weren’t outwardly visible, but they were no longer under SHIELD’s control.  From what Phil had gathered, JARVIS had always kept his attention focused on anything to do with Iron Man or Stark Industries, so it seemed like it would have been a simple matter to have him expand his queries to include the rest of the Avengers. 

 

May returned to the room just as the movie resumed from where it had left off, as if nothing had happened.  The agent just huffed in annoyance as she dropped back into her seat.  Phil just snagged another handful of popcorn from the bowl sitting on the arm of the couch next to Skye.  She quirked a small grin his way, and Phil let his lips twitch, which was the closest she’d get to a smile from him.  Satisfied, she turned back to the movie, and Phil settled in to watch the Earth take on the invading army.  He wondered idly if there was any civilization in the world that could actually be brought down with a computer virus. Maybe he’d ask Stark and Banner later, and see what they thought.  It might at least be intriguing enough to keep them out of trouble for a short while.

 

When the movie was over, the crew drifted off to do whatever it was they did before going to sleep.  It was Skye’s night to do the dishes, but Simmons went with her.  The two girls would probably bond over the lack of common sense among the men.  No doubt Fitz had done something to annoy Simmons today, and Skye would undoubtedly offer a sympathetic ear.

 

May headed for the cockpit, and Triplett followed her.  Fitz headed for the lab.  And Phil walked back upstairs to his office, determined to get some actual work done.  Fury’s request had distracted him thoroughly enough that he hadn’t finished his paperwork for the day.  Not that the paperwork ever actually ended.  Becoming the new Director of SHIELD had actually increased the amount of paperwork that Phil had to do, but much of it was exactly what he had been doing before.  Which would explain why Nick Fury had never seemed to have unending paperwork to fill out, sort, and file.  He’d handed most of it off to Phil.

 

Unlocking the door, Phil stepped into his office, then stopped, an uneasy feeling prickling at the back of his neck.  He frowned lightly, looking around, but nothing appeared to have been disturbed.  Almost instinctively, he looked up, at the vent above his desk, but nothing moved, and he silently chastised himself.  There wasn’t anybody aboard the plane that shouldn’t be there.  He was just being paranoid.

 

Then again, while being paranoid had probably saved his life on more than one occasion, it had never stopped him from completing a mission, either.  He settled himself back at his desk, reaching for his briefcase with easy, practiced movements.  As he pulled out the topmost stack of papers – incomplete mission briefs – and got to work, the feeling of being watched slowly faded away, though he didn’t hear anything.  He shook his head, then picked up the phone.

 

When May answered, he asked, “Have you seen or heard anything suspicious in the last day or so?”

 

“Suspicious?” was his answer.  “I haven’t.  What’s wrong?”  As always, the Cavalry was both perceptive and sharp.

 

Phil frowned lightly.  “It might be nothing,” he said.  “But I have a bad feeling, so keep an eye out, okay?”

 

“Yes, sir,” May replied, her tone promising violence if there actually _was_ an intruder on board.  She was still pretty pissed off at Ward.  “I’ll alert the others.”  It wasn’t a question, and Phil didn’t bother to argue.  It was better that they all be overly paranoid than that they be caught unaware.  The fiasco with Agents Ward and Garrett had been bad enough. They really didn’t need any more problems right now.  Especially since Stark seemed hell-bent on messing with them.

 

Phil’s hands moved automatically, filling in information and signing on the dotted lines as he thought, wondering if there was a link between the coordinates and the feeling of being watched.  Maybe there was a point to going to Stuttgart, after all.  After all, the message had been downright discrete for the billionaire playboy.  But then why not choose somewhere closer?

 

Coulson worked for the next three hours or so, until Skye stumbled in to check on him.  With a huff of fond exasperation (“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Agent Skye.”), Phil allowed himself to be pulled out of the office, snagging his briefcase before locking the office door behind him again.  Skye gave him an odd look, but didn’t argue, which meant that Agent May had already informed them that there may or may not be an intruder aboard the bus.

 

“Fitz-Simmons sent the D.W.A.R.F. drones on reconnaissance,” she said.  “And Agent Triplett is prowling around here somewhere.  They haven’t found anything so far, but if there’s anybody here, they’ll find them.”  She sounded so confident, and Phil wished he could be as assured as she was.  Part of him still believed he was overreacting, but at least if one of the drones went down due to an unknown factor, they’d have some idea of what they were dealing with.  And if it turned out to be nothing?  Well, then at least Phil would know for certain, instead of feeling like he was being stalked.

 

After making sure that Skye made it safely to her bunk – which didn’t have any grates in the ceiling – he wandered up to the front of the plane.  “Anything?” he asked May, who didn’t even turn to look at him.

 

“Nothing yet,” she replied, and Phil nodded, his hip resting against the co-pilot’s seat as he stared out the front windows.  The silence dragged out, but it was comfortable and familiar, and Phil felt himself relaxing.  For all that he and Melinda May had disagreed, they had eventually learned to compromise.  May had helped him to find out what had happened to him, and had helped him to take on Ward and protect Skye and Fitz and Simmons.  In turn, he had extended both his trust and an olive branch.  She was still the Cavalry, after all, and their pilot.

 

May was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and Phil offered her a tight smile.  “I know it sounds crazy,” he admitted, “but with the way things have been going lately, I can’t just dismiss it.”  He knew what her concern was, and it worried him, too.  He had recommended that the T.A.H.I.T.I. project not be used unless absolutely necessary, and even then, had strongly suggested that the person undergoing the resurrection have his memories altered to avoid a gradual descent into insanity.  But he knew, now, what had happened to him.  Was the knowledge, and the stress, making him see things that weren’t there?

 

He sighed quietly when nothing more was forthcoming from his friend.  “I’m going to bed,” he said.  “I’ll send Triplett up before I go”.  He had briefly considered offering to stay up here himself, but May wouldn’t have allowed it, and he didn’t really feel like arguing with her about it.  Still, he wasn’t about to leave her here with no backup.

 

May nodded, accepting the precaution without protest.  Perhaps she wasn’t in any sort of mood to argue, either, he thought hopefully, excusing himself from the cockpit.  Triplett was just on his way up, so Phil offered him a smile and suggested that he bring two cups of coffee with him.  May would undoubtedly appreciate it.  Bidding their newest teammate a good night, Phil headed for his own bunker.  As he passed the sitting room, he paused, his eyes seeking out the table they had sat around earlier, when his greatest concern had been wondering how many more alien movies actually existed.

 

With no visible hesitation – not that anybody was watching him – Phil moved forward, stopping only when he was standing in front of the table, watching its flat surface with a faintly interested expression.  Skimming his hand over the exposed touch screen, Phil brought up the list of movie titles.  There were around two thousand of them, and they changed on a rotating basis every couple of months.  Calmly, Phil worked his way down the list, looking for anything that seemed out of place.

 

Even looking for it, and guessing that it would be somewhere around Independence Day, he almost went past the file.  His mouth twitched into an approximation of a smile as he read the title.  Independence Disaster.  The original title, Independence Daysaster, was another of those alien invasion movies that they hadn’t seen yet, though Phil wasn’t going to hold his breath that it would be any good, with a title like that.

 

Opening the file, instead of the coordinates, he got a request for identification.  Scowling, he answered the stupid thing.  “Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD.”  The question just blinked back at him.  Half a second later, smaller type appeared below that.

 

_Access denied. Please try again._

Phil suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.  “Dammit, Stark,” he growled, pulling out his phone and typing into it, attempting to hack into the program.

 

_Access denied. Please try again._

Phil frowned, reading the question again.  Then he gave an amused huff.  “Agent Agent,” he said.

 

_Congratulations, Agent! Welcome to Stark Entertainment!_

Phil kept his comments to himself. There was no reason to encourage Tony’s antics, and answering the machine now would do just that.  Not to mention that he was pretty sure anything he might say would be answered with a smart-ass comment, courtesy of the billionaire himself.

 

After a short pause that somehow managed to seem disappointed, the coordinates flashed back up on the display.  Nothing else happened, and Phil walked around the table, his fingertips trailing along the wooden surface of the table as he circled it.  The numbers didn’t change.  Back where he’d started, Phil drummed his fingers on the table top in a familiar rhythm.

 

The numbers flickered, then disappeared, only to be replaced with another brief message.  It was only two words, but it caught Phil’s attention with a sick jolt.

 

**_Grant Ward_ **

 

So there really _was_ a purpose to Stark’s message after all.  But why were the Avengers involved with the former Hydra agent?  And why were they in Germany?  Ward should still be locked up in SHIELD’s custody.

 

Phil cursed silently, resolving to have Skye look into Ward’s last known location in the morning.  Outwardly, his expression remained as calm and implacable as ever.  Just in case Stark was watching, Phil refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing him react to the taunt. Then again, maybe it would be good if the other man was watching this.

 

“Mr. Stark,” he said out loud, feeling ridiculous for talking to an empty room, “if I find that this is a joke, you are going to wish I had tazed you the day we first met.”  It wasn’t an idle threat, and Phil knew that Tony would realize he was being perfectly serious.  He did not have time to go gallivanting after the Avengers just because they were incapable of looking after themselves for more than two days.

 

_Give us back what’s ours, and we’ll give you back what’s yours.  Agreed?_

Phil’s jaw clenched slightly, a nervous tic that he had mostly trained out of himself but that still appeared on occasion in times of high stress, usually brought about by one or more of his charges.  “I don’t know what you think we have, Stark, but you’re welcome to it,” he drawled.  “As for former Agent Ward, I would suggest that you treat him as you would any high-level enemy soldier.  He is not somebody to be messed with.”  Ward was nearly as good as the Cavalry, but there was no need to let Stark know that.  Probably.

 

Resigning himself to being unable to do anything else until they landed in Stuttgart, Phil turned off the display and headed for his cell.  The door slid open and he set his briefcase on the floor before dropping onto the cot, tugging wearily at his tie and undoing the cuffs on his jacket before sliding it off his shoulders and hanging it neatly.  Shoes, shirt, belt, and pants followed immediately afterwards, and he hung everything up on the row of hooks to the right of the door.

 

Reaching under his pillow, he pulled out his guilty secret.  A long t-shirt that was about four sizes too large for him and dropped down to just above his knees.  It was dark blue, with a single white star in the middle.  In the center of the star was a tiny Captain America shield, hardly noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for.  Or your name was Hawkeye.  When Clint had seen the shirt, he had busted out laughing, but he had never said anything derogatory.  Which was a smart decision, considering that Coulson knew about the little Captain America plush toy from Clint’s childhood that the archer had never gotten rid of.

 

Going on a hunch, Phil stood up on his bed and wiggled one of the ceiling panels out of the way.  He wasn’t quite tall enough to stick his head inside, but he’d made his point.  And if nobody was actually in there?  Well, there weren’t any cameras in their rooms.  The worst that could possibly happen was that one of the D.W.A.R.F. drones would fall through the hole and onto his floor, since he wasn’t stupid enough to open the panel right above his bunk.

 

Settling under the covers in just his boxers and long shirt, Coulson allowed himself to doze.  He never really slept anymore.  Not that he’d slept often before the Incident, but he did so even less now.  Instead, he allowed himself to drift, his mind not really focused on anything in particular as he rested.  The Bus was safe, so he could let down his guard.  Besides, he rather hoped that by doing so, the person who had been watching him – he was pretty sure he hadn’t been imagining things after that pseudo-conversation with Stark – would come down from the vents.  Phil wouldn’t even yell at him.  Too much.

 

He waited in that half-asleep state for nearly two hours before a body dropped down to his floor with a quiet tap.  Shifting, he raised the covers in invitation, and after a few seconds, during which his companion stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, a warm body curled up against his.  Phil dropped his arm, allowing it to curl around his companion’s waist.

 

“Agent Barton, is there a reason you’re hiding in the ventilation system?” he asked, his voice soft.  Clint’s arrival hadn’t been enough to rouse him entirely, so his voice was still heavy with sleep.

 

The archer tucked his head under Phil’s chin, his arms wrapping easily around his waist as he snuggled in close.  “It was an accident,” he murmured.  “Tony asked me to bring Lola back, so I did.  I figured I’d pay you a visit since I was already on board, but then you took off.”  He gave an insouciant shrug, as if to say _you know how it is_ , but Phil knew better.  He huffed a quiet laugh into Clint’s hair.

 

“Uh huh.  That was back in Newark.  You’ve been on board for the last four days?” he asked, amused despite himself.  He really should scold the agent, but it felt good to have him here.

 

Clint shrugged, shifting them both with the movement and hooking one leg over top of Phil’s.  “Yep,” he agreed with a satisfied hum.  “Those drones are a serious pain the ass,” he added.  Phil just snorted, and Clint chuckled, the sound interrupted a moment later by a yawn.  “Tired,” he mumbled.

 

Phil pressed his hand more firmly against the small of Clint’s back.  “Then sleep,” he replied.  “Tomorrow, there will be questions.”

 

Clint hummed in acknowledgment, his breathing evening out.  A moment later, he was asleep, curled up against Phil under the covers.  The agent closed his own eyes again, allowing himself to drift once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story remains unbeta'd, so any mistakes are mine

“So you’ve really been crawling through the vents for the past four days?” Skye was demanding incredulously when Phil wandered into the kitchen area the next morning, seeing Clint leaning casually against the edge of the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Skye pace around him, fixing food.

Clint shrugged. “Something like that, yeah,” he agreed easily, grinning. Skye laughed, her expression lighter than Phil had seen it since Ward’s betrayal. Clint caught his eye and gave him a wink, which Phil promptly ignored, heading straight for the coffee machine, Clint’s low rumble of pleasure echoing behind him alongside Skye’s laughter.

“AC’s mentioned you before,” Skye started conversationally, offering Clint a stack of toast, which he accepted and started buttering without complaint, ignoring Phil’s narrow-eyed glare. Phil couldn’t get the younger man to help with breakfast without threatening him at gunpoint. Was he just messing with him?

Clint glanced over at Phil, raising an eyebrow, his lips still curved with amusement. “Oh, did he now?” he asked teasingly. Skye grinned, and he gave her a warm smile. “All nice things, I hope.”

“Define nice,” Skye retorted, greeting Jemma as she walked into the kitchen and handing her two mugs of coffee. Simmons thanked her, glanced sidelong at Clint, who just smiled at her charmingly, then looked to Phil, who just shrugged dismissively. Accepting that Clint wasn’t a threat, Jemma left, taking the coffee with her. No doubt she and Leo would be discussing the newcomer that had just appeared on their plane overnight.

“Barton. I should have known,” greeted a deeper voice before Phil could open his mouth to start his interrogation, more awake now that he had coffee in his system. Agent Triplett sauntered in, gripping Clint’s forearm firmly in a friendly clasp. “How’re you doing, man?”

Clint grinned. “Antoine!” he acknowledged, his smile genuine. Phil remembered that the two men had worked on a few missions before, as he was one of the few newer agents that Clint could actually tolerate. He frowned when he realized that all of those missions had been while working under Garrett. He made a mental note to look a little deeper into those missions when he had a chance. “How’re you enjoying your new team? You’ve got a good group.”

Triplett chuckled. “High praise coming from you,” he teased, throwing his arm across Clint’s shoulders. The archer allowed it, and Phil found himself reassessing their relationship. They weren’t lovers, obviously – if they were, Phil was going to have to kill Triplett – but they were more than just occasional teammates, too. 

After a moment, Clint shrugged out of Triplett’s hold, and Phil placed the dark-skinned man firmly in the ‘friend’ category, with Tony and Steve and Bruce. Natasha was a separate entity in and of herself, to both of them. Triplett didn’t take offense to Clint’s dismissal, though, just snagged his finished mug from under the coffee machine and left the kitchen again. As he passed by Phil, he tilted his head. “I’ll just led Agent May know that we’ve found our guest, shall I?” Phil nodded, offering the other man an apologetic grimace, and Triplett grinned as he left, whistling. Phil’s shoulder slumped; Triplett was a morning person. He liked mornings. Phil was sure he’d get on wonderfully with Steve, if not anybody else.

Skye had left the room at some point, so only Clint and Phil remained in the kitchen. With an easy jump, Clint leapt to sit on top of the counter, his feet dangling over the edge. Phil moved silently over to him and leaned back against the counter, his hip pressed reassuringly against Clint’s thigh. They drank their coffee in silence for a few minutes, and only after Phil had his second cup in hand did he speak. “So, Agent Barton. Would you care to explain what you’re doing here, and why the rest of your team is in Stuttgart?”

Clint snorted. “I already told you, didn’t I? I returned Lola, then hung around. It’s not my fault that you decided to take off before I could leave again.” Phil just looked at him, and Clint’s grin widened. “Fine. Have it your way. I came because I missed you. Happy now?”

Phil tilted his head slightly in acceptance. “And Stuttgart?” he prompted.

Clint frowned, then shrugged. “I actually don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to talk to them. Cap or Tony didn’t explain?” he asked.

Rather than replying, Phil walked out of the kitchen, Clint following him closely. With a tap on the table in the sitting room, he brought back up the movie list and flipped to the right one, activating it. Clint just snorted when he saw the title, and Phil let the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. This time, he just got a smiley face, and Clint frowned at the hologram. “You’re sure this is from Stark?” he asked doubtfully.

Phil shrugged, then spoke out loud, manfully ignoring Clint’s snicker. “Agent Agent requesting access.” He didn’t know if it would work this time, since there had been no inquiry, but a moment later, the welcome message popped up. The coordinates came up five seconds later.

“Ah,” Clint said. “Well, okay then.” Phil glanced at him, then shut the screen off again. Clint shrugged. “I really don’t know. I mean, we’ve pretty much been kind of doing our own thing. We have Sam – Falcon – now, and sometimes Rhodey will go with us in War Machine, but our missions take us all over the world. So I don’t know why they’re in Germany, but it’s probably for a mission. Tony or JARVIS didn’t say anything?” he asked curiously.

Phil met his eyes. “Grant Ward,” he said. Clint flinched, and Phil knew then that the Avengers had somehow found out about the traitor in their midst. “What I can’t understand is why the team felt it necessary to pursue him. Surely Stark could have just sent us the coordinates and the reason.”

Clint shook his head. “Sorry, Coulson. If they’re there chasing Grant Ward, then he’s probably just part of something bigger. Ward is Hydra, right?” he asked. Phil nodded. Clint shrugged. “Going after a Hydra cell seems like something they might do,” he said. Phil agreed reluctantly, though he couldn’t really help the feeling that there was something else going on there.

Just then, May’s voice came over the onboard com. “We’ll be landing in ten minutes,” she said bluntly. Phil turned to walk towards the cockpit, Clint following close behind.

Before they made it more than halfway there, a loud rumble passed them by outside. Clint tilted his head. “And that would be Iron Man,” he drawled, his expression faintly amused. Phil shot him a frown, which the archer ignored.

The plane took a sharp turn to the left, and Phil stumbled into Clint who managed to grab onto the doorframe and keep them both from hitting the floor. “What the fuck?” Clint muttered. “Who’s driving this thing?” Phil didn’t answer; he didn’t need to.

The Bus was rising again, putting distance between them and the ground. With a loud crackle, Tony’s voice broke into their systems. “Careful,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “Hydra’s got ground-to-air missiles. Our resident soldier-boys are trying to take them out, but it looks like they were expecting us.”

“And the Hulk?” Phil asked.

“Currently tearing apart a munitions plant,” Tony replied cheerfully. A loud explosion punctuated his sentence. “You’ve got Robin Hood with you?” Tony checked. Phil noticed that the rest of his team, which the exception of May, was gathering around him and Clint, waiting for instructions. Triplett was dressed in combat gear, and he was sure that May was just as prepared. Jemma, Leo, and Skye would be support.

Clint answered for himself. “Yeah, Iron Man, I’m here,” he said, grinning as he climbed onto the nearest table and removed a ventilation shaft, pulling out a quiver of arrows. His bow had already been strapped to his hip. “You need me to shoot something?”

Tony scoffed. “Of course I do. I’m your ride, by the way,” he added, finally explaining why he was there. “I don’t know who these guys are working with, but in addition to the weapons and numbers, they’ve got killer robots.” Clint rolled his eyes, and Phil suppressed a smile. Killer robots. Naturally.

Skye was looking between Clint and Phil as the archer bantered with Tony. “This is normal for you guys?” she demanded incredulously. Phil shrugged. From all accounts, this was actually pretty commonplace, at least for the Avengers. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect Tony of setting them up just so they’d have something to do, given the seeming regularity of the bizarre. “Oh, my god,” Skye muttered, “and I thought my life was weird.”

Clint was heading for the bay, where Tony would grab him and drop him on whatever roof Cap had chosen to perch him on. Pausing before he’d even made it halfway across the room, the archer turned around and darted back towards Phil, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the lips before bolting back the other way, calling a cheerful, “Don’t wait up for me, honey!” over his shoulder. Fitz and Simmons made choking sounds behind him, Skye giggled, and Triplett just blinked, then shrugged it off.

“You and Hawkeye?” Skye exclaimed, unable to let it go. Phil gave her a warning look, but she just grinned back boldly. “Oh, no, I’m not letting this go. I can’t believe it. Hawkeye’s gay.” She sounded inordinately pleased about that, her eyes glinting wickedly.

Tony’s voice blasted through their systems again. “Welcome to the Avengers, princess,” he said, and Skye’s eyes widened almost comically.

“Wait, wait. Who?” she demanded, but Iron Man was gone, and Hawkeye with him, headed for the battle down below. The Bus was turning again, swinging in wide, no doubt waiting for their landing problem to be solved. Phil just shook his head; Captain American and the Winter Soldier. He would have never guessed, even if he had known that the Winter Soldier wasn’t just rumors and hearsay.

“Aw, c’mon, AC,” Skye whined. “Don’t make me guess.” She was pouting now, and Phil smiled at her benignly. She was smart; she’d figure out the dynamics among the Avengers in short order, he was sure. Skye just narrowed her eyes and huffed at him. “Fine. I’ll just ask them,” she decided, heading for the plan’s cargo bay. Phil followed her, already knowing what she was thinking. There was really only one way for them to get close to the battle when they couldn’t land the plane. 

He spoke into his com unit, informing their pilot of his intentions to take Lola and Skye and head for the battle scene. May acknowledged, but demanded that they take Triplett as well, since she had to find a place to land them before she could join them. Phil didn’t argue, hearing the dark-skinned agent approaching them quickly.

Skye was already settled into the passenger seat when he arrived, and he hopped easily into the driver’s seat. Triplett hesitated for a moment, but Skye just grinned and scooted over into the middle, allowing Triplett to crowd into the passenger side. Phil started the ignition as the bay door opened, and then they were flying. He hit the thrusters, and Skye gave a whoop as the repulsors caught them in mid-air, allowing the car to fly. Lola purred softly under him, and Phil grinned outright; he’d have to be sure to thank Tony later.

This ride was much smoother, and May had managed to take them far enough away that the ground-to-air missiles weren’t firing at them. Phil noticed some additional buttons and levers on the console, and wondered what type of upgrades Stark had added. “Agent Triplett,” he said, speaking just loudly enough to be heard over the wind. “See if there’s an instruction manual in the glove box.”

Triplett didn’t argue, just popped the door open and rummaged around inside, pulling back with a small notebook in his hand. He eyed it warily for a moment, until he realized what it was. His eyes widening with glee – undoubtedly Tony Stark had tricks that were just as awesome as any of the Howling Commando’s spy gear – he flipped through the book. “Anything in particular?” he asked.

Phil smirked. “Stealth mode,” he replied, flying just above the tops of the buildings now. Lola was a pretty gal, but she was still a bright red car that was flight-capable. She was already attracting attention, and they hadn’t even reached the battlefield yet.

Triplett flipped through the notebook quickly, grumbling to himself. “How does this guy get anything done?” he muttered. “There’s no discernable order, and his handwriting is crap.”

“I’m surprised that he didn’t have JARVIS type something up,” Phil admitted easily. Triplett glanced over at him, confused, and Skye shrugged.

“JARVIS is that computer voice we heard when we visited the Tower, remember?” she explained. Triplett blinked, his expression clearing up, then nodded and went back to hunting through the book. After another moment or two, he reached out and pressed two buttons on the console. There was a low whirring noise, but nothing visually seemed to change, and Skye looked around. “Umm…what?” she asked at last.

Triplett gestured. “It shields the bottom and sides of the car,” he said, leaning to peer over the edge of the door. “It blends in with what’s around it. Otherwise, people would just see a bunch of humans flying through the air while sitting on absolutely nothing.” That got another bright laugh from Skye. “He scrawled something, but I can’t read it. I think he’s pissed that the car doesn’t have a roof,” he mused. 

Neither Phil nor Skye answered, the former steering carefully as they approached the battle. Several of the missile launchers were little more than flaming wreckage at this point. Further away, they could see the Hulk tearing through tanks, a large building engulfed in flames behind him, random explosions rocketing the ground as the flames destroyed the weapons inside. The ground around them was torn and scorched, trees uprooted and thrown about carelessly. There was cracked and shattered asphalt everywhere, and Phil surmised that this had once been a park, or something similar. He just hoped it hadn’t been a memorial of some sort.

Phil parked Lola on a relatively unscathed portion of walkway, and then they were running into battle. There was a flash of red and gold above them, and then Iron Man’s voice was in their ears. “Hey, kiddies, welcome to the party!” he greeted. “Oi, Bird Brain, your nesting buddies are here!” he added.

“Shut up, Iron Man,” Clint barked, a split second ahead of Steve’s own chastisement.

“Pay attention, Iron Man. Have you found the control center yet?” Captain America called through the communicators.

Tony scoffed. “If I had found the control center, we wouldn’t have giant robots still rampaging all over the place!” he retorted. With a loud screech, three of them leapt at the flying suit, and Iron Man sent his repulsors into two of them, dodging the third. Phil got a good look at them and then growled. The robots or whatever they were looked very much like the Destroyer that Loki had sent to earth during his grudge match with his exiled brother. SHIELD had claimed it, but that meant that Hydra had as well.

Their opponents hadn’t noticed them yet, and Phil skirted around the outside of the battle, looking for anything out of place that might be the control center Tony was looking for. There was a low buzz above him, and Phil ducked. “Sorry!” a man called down, and Phil blinked up at him.

“Wait. Were those…wings?” Skye demanded incredulously, having stuck close to him since they’d left the car. Phil just shrugged; he had heard about Falcon, and even met the other guy briefly, but he had never seen him in battle. It really was quite beautiful.

He didn’t see Cap or the Winter Soldier, but trusted that they were probably in the thick of the battle. Random robots exploded from no discernable cause, and Phil thought he caught glimpses of arrows as they struck true. He really needed to examine Clint’s new arrows when he had a moment. The brief thought that Fitz and Simmons would probably go completely geeky over Hawkeye’s weaponry crossed his mind.

The next thing he knew, a body was flinging itself into him, and a rush of heat and noise washed over him, leaving him panting and breathless on the ground. “What?” he muttered, looking around. Skye was a few feet away from him, staring back at him with wide eyes, but she appeared unharmed.

“Don’t be an idiot, Coulson,” a familiar voice snapped, and Phil looked up, right into the furious eyes of his former asset.

He felt his lips curl into a pleased smile. “Hello, Natasha,” he greeted amiably. The redheaded assassin just snorted at him, then leapt up and back into the fray, wielding a gun in each hand. Phil dragged himself to his feet, keeping his body hunched over as he moved, making himself as small a moving target as possible, one hand wrapped firmly around Skye’s wrist as he pulled her with him, his other hand clutching a gun.

As they ran, they listened to the chatter over the com lines, barked orders and shouted warnings, Clint keeping them all updated on who was where in relation to each other and to the enemy. Phil smiled; Clint was good at his job, both as a marksman and as his team’s eye in the sky. Twice, Iron Man had to snatch him up and drop him on another roof, and once Thor grabbed him as he dove off a building, his grappling arrow catching him first. The archer was quite obviously enjoying himself. Then again, they all were, even Triplett, who had apparently ended up working alongside his idol. Thank god for Captain America, Phil thought ruefully. A soldier amongst gods and scientists and monsters, someone that people like Triplett and Wilson could relate to, a steady, commanding voice in the midst of battle.

“Agent Coulson,” Clint murmured in his ear, “follow the arrow.” Phil looked up just in time to watch an arrow imbed itself in a…was that a water fountain? Seriously? Phil sighed. The fountain was in the middle of a small stone pond, and Phil resigned himself to ruining yet another suit as he plodded forward.

Just as he approached, one of the Destroyer robots landed in the pond, sending up a wall of fire and water. Phil and Skye both ducked, but it didn’t save them from getting soaked. Assured that the robot wasn’t likely to get up again – there was a giant Hulk-sized hole punched through its torso – Phil moved forward, more cautious now, aware that the battle was closing in on them. While that was good, as it meant the Avengers were pushing the enemy lines back, it also made it harder to avoid getting caught in the middle of the battle.

“On my way, Agent,” Iron Man called, only to be cut off with a grunt as a robot hit him, followed by a missile. The armor crashed to the ground, plowing a long furrow into the courtyard. Stark groaned, which meant he was alive. With a loud roar, the Hulk leapt over the prone Iron Man and crushed the robot between his fists before throwing it at a missile launcher that had somehow survived the attack thus far.

“How are you so calm?” Skye demanded anxiously, crouching down when Phil indicated that she should do so, watching him with something akin to awe.

Phil hissed back, “Because panicking doesn’t help.” Skye gave a strangled giggle at that, and Phil kept moving forward, easily hopping the small ledge and grimacing as he dropped into water up to his knees. Careful of his footing, Phil moved forward, heading for the geyser in the middle of the pond. As he got closer, he saw what Clint had pointed out. The arrow was imbedded in the front of the small statue. Behind it, where Clint couldn’t get to because of his current position, was a small remote that Phil guessed was probably the ‘control center’ that Stark and Rogers had been talking about.

Repulsor beams blew over his head as Iron Man took back to the skies, trying to give Phil cover while he worked. Crouching in the water with a grimace, Phil examined the casing. With a shrug, he pulled out his multi-tool and set to work unscrewing the outer panels from the inner workings. Nothing shocked him or exploded, so he guessed that the outer layer wasn’t booby trapped.

The inside was a mess of wires and tiny switches, and Phil scowled at it. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted after a moment. “Iron Man, you should probably come take a look at this.”

He didn’t hear a reply, but a moment later Iron Man dropped into the pond next to him, sending up another wave of water. Phil bit back a sigh. Above them, the Iron Patriot flew, having taken over for Iron Man. Phil privately agreed with Tony and Rhodey that War Machine was far more intimidating. The gold face plate snapped up, and Tony Stark knelt down next to him, whining about water in his joints. Phil ignored him, and after a moment, Tony slipped off his gauntlets and fiddled with the wires.

It didn’t take him long, and the explosions stopped abruptly with the low whine of powered down robots. Tony looked smug, and Phil stood slowly, looking around. The whole area was destroyed and completely unrecognizable. Everywhere he looked, the Avengers were stumbling, trying to gather up the stragglers and keeping an eye on their prisoners. SHIELD had undoubtedly been called already, and the agents were probably just on standby, waiting for the fighting to stop. Phil wondered idly where Ward was, but then decided that it really didn’t matter. Either he had been recaptured, or he had managed to escape. Regardless of which it was, they’d deal with it. Later.

Offering his grinning companion a tired smile, Phil turned and headed back towards the end of the fountain. A moment later, Clint Barton was dropped to the ground by Rhodey, already reaching for Phil, his eyes wide and bright with adrenaline and concern. Skye had stood up when the battle had ended, but was hanging back, just watching. Iron Man had disappeared – probably to go find the Hulk – and for a moment, it was just the two of them.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Clint muttered, “That was stupid, boss.” Phil chuckled against the man’s shoulder, his hands resting on the archer’s waist.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Phil murmured back. “After all, a stupid archer with no self-preservation instincts and a bow for a weapon was out there, risking his life.” Clint snorted at the reminder of their first meeting, where Phil had taken one look at him and realized two things. One, he was a risk-taker. And two, he was just as good – possibly even better – with his bow and arrows as most agents were with a gun. Of course, they had both been fighting for their lives at the time, so it hadn’t been a hard assessment to make.

“Yeah, yeah, touching reunion and all,” Tony grumbled, supporting a weary vendor as they approached the group. SHIELD agents had shown up and taken custody of the prisoners. Captain America and Thor were still down there, talking to them. Phil was aware of May and Triplett moving closer, both of them looking a bit worse for wear. He had no idea when the Cavalry had joined the battle, but he was glad to see that she was safe. He assumed that Leo and Jemma were still waiting on board the Bus. They were excellent scientists, incredibly bright, but combat wasn’t really part of their job description.

Against his will, as he looked at his new team and his former assets, Phil found his mind wandering back to that single, short missive that Nick Fury had sent him. He was torn, and didn’t know how to resolve it without hurting anybody’s feelings. Normally, he just did his job, and if somebody’s feelings were hurt, then so be it. But these people were too important to him for him to be so callous. Unfortunately, that rendered him indecisiveness, which might actually be worse in the long run. He really didn’t need the additional stress. Things had been going fine the way they were. Damn Nicholas Fury and his penchant for butting in where he wasn’t wanted.  
“Hey, you okay?” Clint asked, nudging him gently. Phil blinked, then realized that the group was breaking up. Tony, Thor, and Colonel Rhodes had already left; the others were heading for the Quinjet. Phil’s group was moving towards where they had parked the Bus, and Phil realized that he’d been following Skye without really paying attention.

He glanced at Clint, who was walking next to him, and nodded. “I’m fine, Agent,” he murmured back. Clint gave him a doubtful glance, but let it drop. When he didn’t say anything else, Phil allowed his thoughts to wander again.

Eventually, he realized that they had stopped walking, and he turned to look at Clint curiously. The archer just smiled. “Here’s where we part,” he murmured, leaning down for a kiss, which Phil gave him gladly. It was gentle and chaste, and Phil knew that Clint was holding back only because they undoubtedly had an audience, and the other man knew that Phil was uncomfortable with public displays of affection.

After a moment, Clint pulled back, pressing his forehead against Phil’s and closing his eyes. “Will we see you again soon?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Phil thought about the note still sitting in his briefcase and smiled, his hands reaching up to curl around Clint’s face. 

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” he replied just as hoarsely, giving Clint one final, chaste kiss before parting, heading up the ramp and into the Bus, where his team waited for him. “Oh, and Clint?” he called back. The archer looked up at him, curious, and he smiled.

“The next time you feel like sneaking onto my Bus, at least come say hello.”

Clint’s laughter followed him onto the plane.

“You got it, boss!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have not seen Independence Daysaster. Yes, it really exists. If you have, and found it wonderful, please don’t yell at me. I just wanted a title close to Independence Day, and you don’t really get much closer than that. Add in that it is also, apparently, about aliens invading Earth, and it was too perfect to resist.
> 
> Also, the image that I used for the sitting room, if anybody is interested, is here:  
> http://www.gannett-cdn.com/-mm-/701d6b4a1ae7cd96d931a7380d8978819b2ed575/c=59-0-966-682&r=x404&c=534x401/local/-/media/USATODAY/test/2013/09/13/1379101906001-agents-lounge.jpg


End file.
